Ngapain Repot

Wedding fever in the tropics - when instead of "will we be happy?" the question is "where will we dance - in Paris, London, or in a village to the sound of drums?". Everything is buzzing with excitement, as if each verse is a dispute between the shaman, fate, and the Wi-Fi on your phone. Nobody here makes plans ten years in advance - the maximum is until the next party. The main thing is to answer in time: "Yes" or "no," before the dukun intervenes. The music pulsates like the afternoon heat, the words sometimes joking, sometimes like spells - about a love that doesn't wait for a budget or blessings, but simply demands movement. Everything is fair: a little magic, a little chaos, lots of smiles, and dancing until you drop.